


some dogs aren't meant for war.

by sylphh (icelandicc)



Category: Everyman HYBRID
Genre: Cannibalism, Gen, The Princeton Tapes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 19:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15493215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icelandicc/pseuds/sylphh
Summary: a hunger so familiar it's burrowed into your bones.





	some dogs aren't meant for war.

**Author's Note:**

> this is for a little au i've been playing with where the princeton boys are struggling with a rather unorthodox substance addiction. evan's got it the worst, of course.

XX/XX/198X

 

Evan's head swarmed with noise and static, around his ears like horseflies and eating at his brains like leeches. He was going to overheat, heart still pumping white hot adrenaline through his body like Red Bull. Arcade lights illuminated his hair, red red red and matted to his face. The blips of Mario (or was it Pacman?) struggling to fight an enemy, leaked from around the corner. He seemed to be having a considerable amount of trouble without a player to guide his actions. Eventually the noises ceased and returned to the perpetual loop of title music, leaving Evan to dissociate to the sound of his own heavy breathing. 

He kept licking his teeth, the coppery taste clung to them like a disease. He felt heavy and full, like you do after Thanksgiving. His hands were numb aside from the pleasant buzz of exertion. He stared at them for a long time. They were wet and red, smelled like sin and something that made saliva collect at the corners of his mouth. The periodic neon lights made the  ~~ blood ~~ look pink.

A sharp pain shot up his spine and burst in his skull. Evan yelped and his hand flew up to clutch shakily at his neck. The pain brought him back from the escapade into his own head, and everything that had before deserted him came rushing back like a river current. Iron hung in the air almost palpably and Evan choked on his first breath. He coughed madly into his red slicked arm, smearing his face with-

Mario's title music suddenly seemed so loud. Evan was cemented to the ground, quaking with fits of shivers, staring at the  ~~ man ~~ in the corner of the room, stashed behind crates of quarters. Red pooled around him like a shadow, and  ~~ what was left of him  ~~ laid mangled in a heap, hunched over. Evan gagged on his own spit, swallowing with some difficulty the obscene amount that had welled in his mouth at the sight. 

His eyes stung with the beginnings of tears but he reprimanded himself harshly, clamping his sticky hand over his mouth. Who was he even crying for? Himself? He didn't fuckin’ deserve that. The  ~~ man ~~ ? Guy wasn't even here to appreciate the sentiment. No, Evan was acutely aware of where he was; the rest of him anyway. His mouth tasted vile, except that it didn't, he only wanted it to, and that fact is what really made Evan feel sick. That's when the tears finally won out.

Mario's chipper tune served as ambiance for Evan's choked sobbing. The lights kept pulsing, mockingly.


End file.
